Killing Eyes
by rgm0005
Summary: If it has been born, it is destined to die. From the very first moment, the end is already approaching. That...is an undeniable truth, though people ignore it. But I can't ignore it, because of these eyes. And I can't ignore this world that I had overlooked for so long. Not after that night. That woman, without hesitation, I...
1. Prologue

**Killing Eyes**

**Prologue**

I left school early. To be honest, it probably would have been wiser to just rest in the Infirmary, but if I did that at this hour, who knows how long it would be after school ended that I'd wake up? Ahika would probably have to be called and would end up worrying a lot, so I decided it would probably be better to just go home by myself, even if it required pushing my body.

I was lucky Arihiko had caught on to how I was feeling, as it was; most times I would just end up silently passing out on the floor instead, but I started feeling a bit better once I was outside and breathing the fresh air. It had been awhile since I'd collapsed from dizziness and my bouts of anemia had gotten less and less frequent in the years after the accident, but they still came upon me now and then. Even so, I suppose that was a fair price to pay for having been able to survive such a dangerous accident.

I turned onto the main street, walking slowly in the hopes of not getting sick. I just had to make it through here and the residential district and then it's a straight line to the Tohno Mansion. Hah…I suppose at some point I'd have to start think of that place as home, but…that wasn't something I was certain I was capable of doing. After all, that was the place where I'd—

"—Ah," I suddenly exhaled. I guess I wasn't feeling as well as I thought. Looking around at where I was, I nearly sigh. No; there was no way I'd manage to get all the way to the mansion just by pushing myself. At best, I'd end up collapsing by the side of the street.

There's no helping it, then. I moved to the guardrail and leaned against it, breathing in and out carefully. I'll just rest here until my anemia calms down a bit.

There isn't really anything else I can do while I was like this, so I just blankly watched the street in front of me. A part of me is surprised; it's only a little past noon but the streets are full. Many people are walking by where I'm sitting, hardly casting me or anyone around them a glance. Of course, I don't recognize any of them, either, and am only watching them because I have nothing else to do, so that's understandable. It is, after all, just a normal crowd of people; the type one sees every day. Not something worth any particular attention.

—At least, until I see her.

All she does is walk past me, but I freeze. The air comes from my lungs in a helpless sigh and my hands tighten on the guardrail against my will. My eyes widen as I look at her—at her, and no one else, as my heart starts to race, and my back arches, as if my spine were about to tear itself out.

She was beautiful beyond words. Just looking at her was like watching the sun rise for the first time, it was so breath taking. She was the type of woman that men probably would have killed each other over—and, of course, she's not paying attention to me in the slightest. Even so, I felt warmer just by being near her, like she was a fire and I was a moth—and even though I felt like I would be burned if I did, I wanted to get closer to her.

And then she passed me by and I was left feeling cold, like something important is getting away from me. My heart is pounding still, as if telling me to hurry up, and I can't bare it any longer and rise from the guardrail. My blood is rushing through my veins so fast it drowns out the sounds of the street, and I can think of only one thing.

Her. That girl. I'm going to—

I realize I've stopped breathing only when my lungs start to burn, and I have to force myself to take in air. I feel so cold and it's only then I realize I'm drenched in sweat. I tremble for a moment before I realize what I have to do.

I have to follow her. I have to follow that girl. I have to chase after her and talk to her.

My feet start to move.

She's walking slowly, taking in everything around her with careful eyes. If I rush up to her now, she'll notice me and I can talk to her and ask for her name—

Ask her name? Who am I kidding? I know very well that's not what I want to do.

But I don't know. I can't think; what _do_ I want to do? If I know, then I should know, but somehow it's something I can't put into words.

My lungs are burning again and I realize I've stopped breathing once more, but so what? After seeing such a beautiful woman, it's understandable that I've gotten breathless, right?

That's right. Stop and ask for her name? Why would I do that? I'm not a kid, after all; there's only one thing I have to do.

My breathing returns to normal and I put my hands into my pockets. My fingers touch steel and I remember the knife I was given just a few days ago.

How fortunate. It seems everything I need is already here.

As she walks, I leave plenty of space between us, so she won't notice and so other people won't suspect. My pace changes, becoming more natural, and I shift my eyes to something else, showing the right amount of interest and no more, just like I was taught by my—

She and I are complete strangers, after all. I have to do my best to make it look natural as I follow her. Slowly, like I was riding a bike again after a long time and was just shaking off the rust, I change; the way I walk, the way my arms and eyes move, my expressions, everything, and then I'm just a normal person. I continue to follow her like that as she heads towards a building—an apartment complex in one of the nicer parts of town.

I look through the glass after she enters and see her heading towards the elevator. It opens immediately as she pushes the button and it's empty; I see my chance.

"Ah!" I say, coming through the door and seeing her in front of the elevator. "Hold that, please!"

I 'rush' towards it, moving normally as she looks at me. I have her attention for that moment and I wonder how she'll react to me. I can feel her eyes as they take everything about me in; the sweat on my skin, my uniform, my hair, my build, my glasses—everything I appeared to be, she captured in a moment, and then I felt something brush over my skin, and knew it was looking at me too, trying to see what I was. But I was just a human; I had no _ for her to find. A moment later she dismissed me completely.

I smiled at her as I stopped by her side and waited politely as she entered first before following her inside.

"What floor?" I asked.

"Eighth," She replied simply and I nodded as I pushed the button. It might seem odd if I was taking the elevator up to the second floor and the third could be borderline, so without hesitation I pressed the button for the fourth and stepped back to lean against the rear of the elevator. She glanced at me as I moved before turning her attention once more to the front.

Good. Everything was in place except—

These glasses were in the way. I can't do what I've come to do while they're still on.

'_It's a promise, Shiki; you should never cut those lines thoughtlessly.'_

…A woman had once told me that, but…I can't even remember her name or face right now.

It doesn't matter. I take my glasses off and…

I can see the lines. Not just them, either, but countless black dots covering everything. Has something happened to my eyes? The sight of them makes me wonder again; what am I trying to do? Why am I trying to do this? What do I want to do with that girl? I don't know anything.

I put my glasses in my pocket as the elevator reaches the second floor. The motion draws her attention again—I can tell even if she's not looking at me—so I wait. She's different, now that my glasses were gone, and I took a moment to watch her in the periphery of my vision. Her blonde hair had faded to a pure white and she was tall—taller than me, actually, standing over two meters. Her skin was flawless and beautiful, and though I was behind her, I could make out some of the features of her face in the reflection of the elevator doors. Her lips were cherry red and her eyes shone through shifting shades of catlike green. She truly was beautiful beyond words, even more so than before, but that beauty was marred by the lines and dots, like everything else I saw. But I do nothing, even as we reach the third floor.

But then we reach the fourth. The opening of the doors draws her attention away from me for an instant and I see my chance. I take a silent step forward and pull out my knife.

"—W—" The woman says. No, she tries to say. She will never finish, because I'm already cutting her apart. The words fall silent as the steel of my blade passes through her pale neck, white flames erupting bright against the white of her skin at its touch. She tries to do something, fingers curling into some trained gesture, but it's already meaningless. I finish with her neck and trace the line along the back of her head, turning as I pass her. My blade traces from her right shifting eye to those beautiful red lips, and then down to her abdomen, through her left breast, up from the rib to the heart, across her right shoulder, right below the elbow, through the middle of her hand, across her right thigh and above the left knee, across her left thumb and index finger, through her left forearm, across her stomach in two places, down through her groin, across her right ankle, and through her right foot, and I leave her in burning pieces on the floor of the elevator as slipped through the barely opened doors, not even taking a second. It had happened in a passing moment and was done—and she was nothing but swiftly burning meat.

The Elevator doors chime as they opened fully.

"—Huh?" I hear an incredibly dumb sounding voice say.

It takes me a moment to realize that voice is coming from my own throat.

I feel dizzy and stumble, turning to look behind me. The pieces of the woman are still lying there are the floor of the elevator, burning. The wounds were cauterized by the flames, so there was no blood, and the cuts were very clean, but even so, she looks like someone had broken apart a jigsaw puzzle and left the pieces lying on the ground. The scent of burning meat fills the air, and it seems so strange—I look around wildly, but there's nothing. There's nobody in this hallway but me and the scattered pieces of the woman.

I look down. In my hands is the murder weapon, the knife that had cut her to pieces. The doors chime once more as they begin to close, drawing over the sight of her body like a curtain and hiding it from my sight, but the scene is still there, bright and vivid in my mind.

"She's…dead…?"

The question is stupid, I realize the moment I speak it. Of course she was; nobody could survive after being cut to piece like that.

"Why…?"

Any equally pointless question. I just did it with my own hands, after all. Like it was nothing, I cut apart a woman I didn't even know.

"I killed her," I breathed, looking at the closed doors of the elevator. There was no mistaking it; I had killed her.

But why would I do that?

There was no reason for it. I had no reason to kill her. I didn't even know her. It didn't make any sense, did it? Was it a mistake? It had to be a mistake, right? It could have been a dream or a nightmare or something, but it couldn't have been real.

But no, that was a lie. The scent of her burning flesh still filled my nostrils, I was still in the apartment complex, the elevator was still heading up—without a doubt, it was real.

I stumbled again, barely managing to stay on my feet. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Why would I do this—I didn't even know her! She was just a woman I'd passed by on the street! She was a complete stranger; why would I kill her!?

But then, the reason was already clear. From the moment I saw her, I'd only been able to think of one thing. The thing I couldn't put into words before, the thing I didn't want to acknowledge—

Yes.

I had wanted to kill that woman.

"Ah…"

I felt like throwing up.

"Ugh, ah, aah…!"

I shook, scared and sick at what I'd just done, and I ran. I didn't think about hiding the body, I didn't think about how I might be seen, I just wanted to be anywhere but here, so I ran. Half-crazed, I left the apartment behind. I make it down the street before I can't hold it in any longer and fall to my knees, vomiting up the contents of my stomach while I cry. Even once my stomach is empty, I can't stop and I convulse slightly as I dry heave. It hurts, like my insides are burning, and I collapse to the side, continuing to cry.

I killed someone. Without any reason, without any remorse, I'd ended someone's life. Why I'd done it…even now I could not think of a reason.

I choke and start to cough into my hand, and it leaves behind droplets of scarlet red. My throat had started to bleed because of my body wouldn't stop trying to throw up and it hurt.

It hurt, so…this definitely wasn't a dream.

Maybe I did understand. Looking at her, I'd thought of her as the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, but that thought paled in comparison to when I'd torn her apart. That moment, when my blade traced her lines, had been sublime, like I'd realized what I'd always wanted to do and done it. The beauty of the sunset or the sea or a piece of art—they were nothing compared the awe and wonder that had come what chopping her to pieces.

I'd known since long ago that anything whose lines I cut would be torn to pieces and I'd tried not to think about it, but I'd also always known that had applied to people as well. If I was the type of person who wanted to kill people, these eyes were a weapon that could end many lives.

Since I'd known that…perhaps I should have put out these eyes or locked myself away.

"…I'm sorry, Sensei." I said, still crying. "I couldn't even keep such a simple promise."

But I don't care about myself. I killed that person. That person's life up until now, the future she'd dreamed of—a complete stranger had destroyed it all for no reason.

Even if I regret it, that isn't something that can be forgiven.

"Have I…gone insane…?" I wondered. I didn't know the answer. The impulse I'd felt had vanished, but while it had lasted…I hadn't even thought of holding back. I hadn't even considered trying to stop myself. Killing that woman had seemed like the obvious thing to do, the only thing that had made sense, and I'd done it without giving it any thought.

Then the answer was simple. I really must be insane. Maybe I'd been insane since that day eight years ago…

I feel myself start to fade, but from somewhere nearby I hear a voice…

"—Shiki-sama?"

**XxXXxX**


	2. Killing Eyes and Faerie Hounds Part 1

**Killing Eyes and Faerie Hounds**

**Part One**

I wake up slowly, still feeling dazed. I stare blearily up at the ceiling for several seconds before I understand.

"My room…?"

"Have you awakened, Shiki-sama?"

I turned my head slowly to the side in order to better see the woman standing beside my bed.

"Hisui…?"

"Yes," The maid nodded, staring quietly at him. "How is your body feeling?"

That's an odd question. My body is feeling fine, but—

The woman's face, before and after I was done with it, flashes through my mind.

"…Why…?"

Why am I back in my house, even after I killed that woman? I ran from the scene of that crime in horror, but her body would have been found. Surely someone would have connected it to me, a young man who ran from the building and vomited nearby, right?

So why aren't I in a jail cell?

"Even though I k—" I say after a minute, only to stop. I was going to say I killed a woman, but I didn't want Hisui to know. I was a coward, I realized, on top of being a murderer. I knew I had to be punished for my actions, but I didn't want them to know—not yet, at least. I could admit what I'd done to a police officer, but not to Akiha. It was cruel of me, to make her find out some other way, but I couldn't say it to her face.

I couldn't see the look in her eyes when she found out her brother was a murderer.

"What am I doing here, Hisui?" I asked instead.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked at me.

"Do you not remember, Shiki-sama?" She asked, concerned. "Your school called to say you had left early because you felt sick, but you didn't come back, even after the Sun fell. When my sister went to look for you, she found you resting in the park."

What?

"The park? You mean the park near here?"

"Yes. She said she found you resting on a park bench and woke you. The two of you returned together.

"What?" I said, shaking my head slowly. "I don't remember any of that."

"I do not think that's odd, Shiki-sama. When my sister brought you back, it seemed like you were in a daze."

…I seriously don't remember any of this. But I have no reason to doubt what Hisui says…do I?

I turned my eyes to the clock. It was already nine o'clock. I'd left the school at noon and done…that less than half an hour later. Over eight hours had passed…It was possible, maybe. But I couldn't remember any of it.

"When you returned to the mansion, you said you wanted to sleep. My sister suggested calling a doctor, but you said it happens all the time."

"…I see. I guess I do collapse pretty often, but…"

This time was different. It was definitely different. Because I had…I had definitely killed someone.

"Did you have a nightmare of some sort, Shiki-sama? You looked like you were having a bad dream and you don't look well…"

I looked away. There was no way that had been a dream, but…

"Yes. Just a nightmare, Hisui. I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble. I'm alright now, thank you."

"Then if you are feeling better, I will go prepare dinner now."

The thought of eating with those images still in my mind…

A small shudder goes through me.

"Ah, no, that's all right. I think I'll just sleep like this today. More importantly, did Akiha say anything when I came back?"

"Akiha-sama was not home at the time. She returned a couple of hours ago and was informed of your condition. Why?"

"Ah…I was just wondering if she was upset that I caused her so much trouble."

I didn't have to face her yet. I relaxed a bit.

"…She was worried, but I would not say she was upset with you, Shiki-sama." Hisui said, before stepping back. "If that is all, I will be leaving now—please call for me if you need anything."

"Good night then, Hisui. I've very sorry about today. Please say thank you to Kohaku, as well. I promise it won't happen again."

It wouldn't. I'd make sure of it. Because tomorrow…

"I understand. Goodnight."

**XxXXxX**

It was six when I wake up. I hadn't slept well last night; every time I was about to fall asleep, I would see that woman's corpse, stark and fresh in my mind. Hisui comes to wake me shortly after, and I finally get out of bed. I take a bath, wanting to put this off a little bit longer, and perhaps it was a good idea, because both my head and purpose seemed clearer after I was done. After I finished, I changed into my uniform so as to not make anyone suspicious and went downstairs. Kohaku meets me and stops me on my way to the door.

"Good morning, Shiki-san," She says cheerfully. "You're up early today. Just hold on a minute; I'm going to prepare some breakfast right now."

The mere mention of food makes me flashback to that woman and I lose my appetite immediately. Besides, I'm in a hurry and if I stay here, I might start to have second thoughts and I couldn't let that happen.

"Ah, that's okay, Kohaku-san. I'll head to school today without eating. Goodbye." I said, heading towards the door to leave for what would probably be the last time.

But suddenly, my arm is grabbed stopping me.

"Shiki-san!" She says, and I realize with some surprise that she's really angry. "What are you saying!? Have you looked at yourself!?"

Ah…now that she mentioned it, I'd looked at myself once in the mirror. I'd looked like death warmed over, to be frank, so maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that she was worried.

Even so, I try to play it off.

"It's okay, Kohaku-san; it's just because I had an anemia spell yesterday, so I look a bit bad. I'm used to it, though."

"You shouldn't skip meals while you're feeling sick, Shiki-san! Hisui said you'd skipped dinner last night, too, and did you even eat lunch yesterday!?"

I had, so I nodded, even though I'd ended up vomiting all of it up. Of course, that didn't really seem to satisfy Kohaku.

"If you don't have an appetite, then I'll prepare something light for you, so please wait in the dining room!"

I couldn't really justify needing to leave the house without even taking a snack with me—or I could, but not in any way I'd be willing to tell Kohaku—so I resigned myself to waiting a few more minutes. What could it hurt, after all?

And then I saw my sister waiting there.

"Good morning, niisan. How are you feeling?" She asked worriedly, her usual sternness gone.

She's the last person I want to face right now, but I answer the question regardless.

"Ah…good morning, Akiha. I'm feeling—" I decide to lie. "—better today. I'm sorry for worrying you."

I try to follow Kohaku into the dining room, but she's apparently decided to thwart my every action.

"Please wait here, Shiki-san; I'll call you when it's ready!"

**XxXXxX**

Talking to Akiha is…hard. She waited eight years for me to return and when I do, I kill an innocent woman just a day later. What kind of brother—what kind of person—am I? Now, I'm going to have to leave her again, and this time I won't be back in something as short as eight years, if ever. I can barely look at her, I feel so guilty, but this is probably the last time I'll see her except through bars, so when she speaks, I respond. I ask about her school, trying to get a feel for whether she has any friends that can help her through things after I'm gone, and she scolds me for collapsing yesterday. I accept the chastisement easily and try to make a few jokes, hoping to at least give her something before I ruin her life. But when Kohaku is done, I'm quick to enter the dining room and despite how my stomach feels I scarf the food done, hoping to leave as quickly as possible.

When I'm done, Hisui escorts me outside, but right as I'm about to leave, I'm stopped again.

"Shiki-sama…what happened to you last night?" She says so quietly I barely hear it, but when I do, I all but freeze.

"…Nothing in particular," I say after a moment. "I just felt sick at school and was on my way back when—well, I suppose I just collapsed in the park. As Akiha said, I was careless, but I promise I won't be causing you anymore trouble from now on."

Without another word, I smile at her and leave.

The police station is only a few blocks away from the school; it's really just a left turn and a little walk from the intersection I usually go straight through to get to the school. When the lights turn red and I'm forced to stop yet again, I wonder if some force is conspiring against me or if I'm unconsciously trying to drag things out. It's probably the former, unless I'm punishing myself, because from where I'm standing I can see my school. I take a moment to look at it for the last time.

My friends are probably there already. I wonder when they'll find out about what I've done. Will it just be in the newspaper or will they find out on TV? Will they believe the truth or reject it? I can imagine Arihiko being unable to believe it—a day ago, I never would have thought myself capable of such a thing. I've probably caused them both a lot of trouble, too; they'll definitely have a hard time, having been friends with a murderer and not knowing it. What I've done will probably make their lives a lot harder.

I close my eyes for a moment, apologizing to them silently, before opening them again to look at the school—

Between the cars rushing by, I catch sight of a woman in green, with blonde hair and green eyes. Around her, there are nothing but students, and her dress stands out sharply for its contrast to their uniforms, and none of them so much as looking at her, despite her beauty.

I've seen her only once before, but there's no way I could ever mistake her for someone else.

But that's impossible. I killed her myself. Yesterday, I definitely cut that woman to pieces.

But then, if that's so, why is she here? Have I gone even more insane? Have I started to hallucinate? Or is she really, impossibly there?

The light turns green and the people around me start to walk to the other side, but I can't help but stand there, stunned.

She is there beside the school, silently standing beside the wall of the School. She looks like she's waiting for someone. Who's she waiting for? Could it be…?

I have a bad feeling about this.

The woman in green looks my way. It's probably nothing more than a coincidence. It has to be, right? She's just a girl who looks like her and she's waiting for someone else. After all, definitely, I killed that woman yesterday, and left her burning on the floor.

But she's still looking at me and a slight smile forms on her lips. The woman I killed turns and heads towards me.

The light turns red again, but she doesn't even slow down. She moves gracefully through the rushing cars, paying no more attention to them then they do to her, walking straight across the street as they pass by.

It can't be her. It's a dream or a hallucination, but it can't be her.

_It can't be her_.

It can't be, but even so, when her feet touch the sidewalk less than a meter away from me and she looks at me, smile still on her lips and I can feel heat on my skin and my heart's pounding enough to hurt and she still refuses to fade away—

When that happens—

I run.

I run as fast as I can. I run with all my might. I run with no regard to anyone or anything around me or about how I looked or where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get away. My heart starts pounding painfully and my lungs and legs start to burn, but I don't stop—I can't stop, because if I do…

I look behind me, and the woman in the green gown is still there, walking towards me, following me. The woman I killed is chasing me, so it's obvious I had to run.

But every time I look back, she's there. She's not running, but simply walking towards me, her movements so graceful that she moves easily through the crown, not bumping into anyone or even slowing down. She's neither sweating nor hurrying—and yet, she's the exact same distance away from me as she had been before.

Every time is the same.

I run until my arms feel heavy.

I run until my legs feel like they're about to fall off.

I run until I'm panting so hard I can barely breathe and I'm sweating through my clothes.

And yet—

And yet I can't even get away from someone who's merely walking after me!?

I've already run several kilometers, but even so, when I look back she's always there, walking towards me. Casually, like she's taking a stroll, she follows right behind me.

It's not funny, but I start to laugh. I laugh until I cry, but I continue to run, because I know that if I should stop, it'll be the death of me. If she catches me, she'll kill me for sure. I have nothing to base that on—no reason, no basis, no evidence—but for what other reason would a murder victim come back to life and hunt down her killer?

And perhaps that's her right. Perhaps she deserves to take my life as I had taken hers.

That's logical.

Perhaps even reasonable.

But I still can't help but run from her.

But then it's over. I collapse suddenly, falling forward pathetically, not because I've tripped over anything but simple because I couldn't force my body to move even a single step further. With anemia yesterday, how little I've eaten, and how little sleep I managed to get, it was a miracle I'd even managed to get this far, but it didn't seem that way as I fell, because no matter how amazing it was, it still wasn't anywhere near enough.

When I looked back, she was still there, walking slowly, but now that I'd stopped she was gaining ground with slow, steady steps.

Pathetically, I somehow manage to crawl my way into the alley beside me and to the wall in a hopeless attempt to hide myself from her. I try to pull myself up with it, knowing well that even if I did I couldn't possibly continue to run, but I couldn't even do that much. My knees buckled almost instantly and I collapse back down.

I can't run from her any more.

I haven't been breathing properly for a while now and my head hurts because of it, but I try to gain control of it and think.

Even now, I don't know what's going on. I don't even know what I'm doing. But—

"…I'm sure I killed her." I whisper aloud.

That was a fact. It was something there was no way around. I had definitely, absolutely killed that woman in the most thorough way imaginable. I'd left her shattered like pieces of a broken mirror and the rent pieces of her body had even started to burn, so—she had definitely been dead. I'm sure I killed her so…

How was she still here?

"Oh?" A beautiful, feminine voice asked, colored faintly by disappointment. "Is the chase over already? A pity."

She turned into the alley, stopping in front of me. Her smile was still on her lips, but her eyes blazed fiercely with barely contained emotion,

"Hello," She greeted warmly, despite her eyes. "Do you remember me? You gave me quite a bit of trouble yesterday."

My heart clenches in fear as I look at those eyes and I know I have to run away—but I can't. I can't move; I can't even stand.

I try anyway, but all I manage to accomplish is knocking against the wall as I attempt to jerk myself upright.

She shook her head slowly, pleasant smile never fading.

"The chase is over," She repeated, gesturing towards the air behind her. A slight shimmer filled it for a moment before fading away. "This is a dead-end and no one shall be coming along or interfering."

I glance deeper into the alleyway and curse myself for my stupidity. Without even thinking about it, I'd tried to hide in here, but thinking about it, if I wanted to be safe I should have stayed closer to other people. Coming into a deserted place like this—it's the same as asking her to kill me.

"I'm…happy to have found you," She said, lifting a hand to my face. "It's fortunate that I remembered your uniform. It wasn't so long ago, but for me, these last eighteen hours were some of the longest of my life."

Slowly, deliberately, she dragged the tip of a nail across my face—and I felt it. Without a doubt, this was no dream or hallucination, and her words left no doubt that she was the same woman.

But still—

"I…"

She looked at me silently and let me stutter, something like amusement glimmering in her eyes.

"I definitely—"

"Yes, I'm the woman you chopped to pieces so ruthlessly yesterday."

"T-then…that's impossible! There's no way a human could survive something like that!"

It wasn't something that could be argued or debated. I'd cut her brain in two, left half her face on the ground, torn of her limbs, sliced through her vital organs, and left her burning corpses on the floor. That wasn't something anyone could just get better from or heal—even if the best doctors in the world had been right there, all they'd be able to do is state the obvious and tell someone she was dead.

So how—

"Of course not," She said patiently. "But then, I'm not human."

"—What?"

'I'm not human,' she had said. I'd definitely heard her right, but—

"You're not…human…?"

"Shouldn't that have been obvious?" She asked. "As far as I'm aware, there are no mortals who could survive what you did to me."

Well, of course. Hadn't I just thought that? There was no way a human could do something like that. But—

"No way…" I breathe. I want to laugh, but my throat is too dry. "…The hell…?"

But…it did make sense, in a way. If she wasn't a human, that explains why she was alive after what I did to her. A part of me feels ridiculous even thinking about it, but without a doubt it makes more sense than a normal person spontaneously getting better after what I did. Perhaps this was hard to believe, but _that_ would be impossible.

I start to calm down. In a situation like this, I need to observe carefully and think things through.

"I see; you're not human. What are you then?"

"My people have gone by many names, but the one we prefer is the Sidhe. That is not a term that would mean anything to you, however, so you can instead think of me as an Immortal."

Ah, good. 'Shee' doesn't mean a thing to me, but Immortal is something I can understand. Something that can't die…in that case, of course it makes sense that she would still be alive.

"I see, so you're a Shee," I say, and she nodded, smile widening. It was an odd reaction, I thought, but then, this entire conversation had long since become weird. I take a moment to ponder how strange it was that I of all people ran into someone who wasn't a human and choose to try and kill them, but I suppose things like odds didn't matter right now. "So, what does someone like you want from me, then?"

For a moment, she almost loses her composure, but seems to recover at the last moment. The emotions running through her eyes brighten feverishly, but it doesn't touch her face.

"You must be fairly used to this, murderer," She murmured. "What do you think one of your victims would want after you were done with them?"

"To be honest, I never expected it to come up—I didn't think the woman I killed would come back to complain about it…" I look out into the sunlit street just a few feet away, pondering.

"Are you ignoring me now, Murderer?"

"…No, I'm paying attention. Could you just be quiet for a little while though? I'm contemplating just how unlucky I am."

But really. First there was a woman who I went insane the moment I saw and cut to pieces. Then, horrified, I collapse and have to be found and taken back to the Mansion. Afterwards, I spend the night wracked with guilt and decide the only way to make up for what I've done is to turn myself into the police before I hurt anyone else and face the punishment of the law—only, the woman I cut to pieces was actually an immortal so she put herself back together and then hunted me down, chasing me across the city and cornering me in an alleyway. I can't help but laugh at how surreal it all is.

–But it's not all bad.

Definitely, the woman I tried to kill is still alive, so it's not all bad. That is definitely something to be happy about. I may have ended up being cornered by a strange person, but I definitely prefer that to being a murderer.

Of course, it goes without saying that the woman I left on the floor in pieces has a different perspective on things.

My laughter dies with a croak as her hands close around my throat. The controlled façade she kept falls away suddenly after a moment of being stunned silent by my words. Her eyes fill with hate enough to burn as they bore into mine and when she speaks her voice comes out in a hiss.

"—No. Rather than me, why don't _you_ be silent, Murderer? Just quietly die and fall into hell."


	3. Killing Eyes and Faerie Hounds Part 2

**Killing Eyes and Faerie Hounds**

**Part Two**

The hand around my throat tightened, steel like fingers gripping my neck like a vice and I was sure for a moment that this was it, that I was about to die, that she was going to crush the life out of me with a single hand—but she didn't.

For a moment, she seemed too try, struggling as if with herself, attempting to force her fingers tighter around my throat—but after a moment, she stopped, releasing me with a brief expression of disgust. I almost fell, but at the last second managed to catch myself on the wall and lean against it. I still had to look up at her, but at least this way I was on my feet instead of the ground. My right hand went to my throat, rubbing it. It would bruise, I was sure, but for now I was alive.

"So even after what you have done, I am not allowed to take your life?" She mused, fingers curling at the thought. "Perhaps that is for the best; I lost control of myself for a moment. It would have been a shame if I had ended your life so quickly."

"…It's no problem. I've calmed down now, too. I'm sorry for laughing; I was just thinking things over and it all seemed kind of funny, but if you have something to say, I'll listen, so talk as much as you want."

"'Funny,'" She mused. "Is that how this seems to you, mortal? Do you find it funny?"

"I think it's kind of hilarious how odd this situation has gotten," I have to admit. "The woman I thought I'd killed turned out to be immortal and has returned to punish me and now we're having a conversation; I don't think that's something that happens very often, but I hadn't believed in immortals before today either, so perhaps I am wrong…?"

"No," She shook her head. "This is not something which has ever happened before, to my knowledge. But then, no one has ever tried to kill me in such a manner, either—no one has dared. But I do not find this situation funny, Murderer. Do you have any idea what will happen now?"

"You'll take your revenge and kill me?" I guessed, before remembering what she'd said. "Or…can you not do that?"

She lifted her hand again and gently touched it to mine, making me stop rubbing my bruising throat.

"I cannot," She admitted. "It is the way of things that I cannot put an end to your life. However, should I so wish…This hand, which was responsible for my pain…"

She drew that warm finger slowly over my hand and up the length of my middle finger, stopping once she'd reached the nail.

"…I could make it _burn_…" She said, tone not changing. Her eyes became even brighter as she looked at my hand. "And I could make that burning continue, in water or in air or even within the earth's smothering grasp, from your fullest extension to the right, to your fullest extension to your left, devouring your body inch by slow inch, until the last, smoldering pieces of your wretched existence were left writhing in your own ashes—and even then, it would not stop, because even then I would not let you die."

Her words froze me to the core and as she took my hand from my neck, gazing at it was those feverish eyes, the hand grasping mine was hot, almost enough to burn—and if I could bring my body to move at all, I would have shaken.

Her breath quickened then, as she stared down at my fingers.

"I am the Lady of Life, Murderer—should I wish it, I could make you suffer in ways you could not _imagine_—"

She let go of my hand so suddenly that I jerked as it fell, blinking her green eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Would that I had time enough and magic to spare," She murmured. "You will most likely never truly understand how light your punishment shall be, Murderer, but I will punish you nonetheless, to the greatest extent I can—because you have ended me, mortal."

I swallowed.

"What do you mean? You…you're immortal," I said.

"Even so, this is my end," She said. "What you did to me did not go unnoticed. It took most of my power simply to put myself back together after you left me in pieces and tomorrow my enemies will come for me and my allies will turn against me, and I cannot fend them off as I am. I will not last the week, Murderer. And neither shall you."

"M-me? Why?"

"Because when they find me, they shall find you," She said, baring her teeth in what could have been a smile if there was less hate in it. "You are coming with me, Murderer, to better feed the hounds. You and I shall be torn to pieces and destroyed. Perhaps quickly. Perhaps slowly. But together, I assure you of that. It is a meager punishment, given what you have done, but it shall have to suffice."

I watched her silently for a moment, barely breathing. She looked at me in turn, inhuman eyes waiting—for what? For me to run and be chased down? Fight and be defeated?

I didn't do any of that. There was no point and, more importantly, I didn't want to.

Instead, I spoke.

"Okay," I said.

Her poker face was good, but I thought that she seemed surprised.

"What?" She asked.

"I said okay." I repeated. "When you chased me down, I figured it was only natural that you would be here for revenge and—yeah, that's fair. I shouldn't have run you and I apologize for doing so. I've led to your death so I shall die with you…like I said, that's fair. Is there anywhere in particular we're going to die or are we just going to wait here in this alley?"

"…As I expected, you are a very strange person, Murderer."

"Well, in this situation, I think it's for the best if I just take everything in stride. After what's already happened today, I guess I'm building up a tolerance to weird stuff?" I wonder, pushing myself off the wall. My knees feel a bit wobbly, but I manage to stay on my feet. "Are we staying here, then?"

"…No," She said, still looking at me like I was some sort of strange, incomprehensible thing. "Follow me."

**XxXXxX**

I walk down the street in front of her, quietly obeying whenever she gives directions. It would probably be a lot simpler if she led and I followed, but last time I was behind her, I'd ended up chopping her into over a dozen pieces and leaving her on fire, so I suppose I couldn't blame her for wanting me where she could see me.

However, there were a few things I wanted to ask.

"Why tomorrow?" I suddenly said, and though I couldn't see her, I felt pretty sure she was surprised by the sudden question.

"Does it matter, Murderer?"

"Not particularly, I suppose," I admitted, pondering the words even as I spoke them. "I guess dying tomorrow isn't really that different from dying any other day. I'm just wondering why people are going to come and kill us tomorrow instead of today. You'd figure that if you wanted someone to die, you'd want them to die as soon as possible, right?"

"I suppose that's something you would know, Murderer," She murmured.

It wasn't, I thought, but somehow I got the feeling that telling her that, actually, she was the first person I'd ever tried to kill and I'd done it randomly and for no reason was not something that would endear me to her. As such, I chose to err on the side of not angering someone who could make me suffer unbelievably and kept quiet.

We walked for a few minutes before she spoke again.

"It has to be tomorrow. It can only be tomorrow." She said.

"Why?"

"Do you know what day tomorrow is, Murderer?"

"Tuesday?"

I felt her eyes silently boring into my back and realized quickly that wasn't the answer she was looking for.

"Um…October 31st?" I tried again.

"Yes," She murmured. "But do you realize the importance of that day?"

No, I thought, trying to think of anything that happened tomorrow and failing. I opened my mouth to tell her so when a thought flashed through my mind.

Tokyo Disneyland had been advertising something a lot, recently—a Western Celebration they were going to have here in Japan for the first time. Universal Studios Japan in Osaka had been doing the same thing. Arihiko and I had spoken jokingly about it a few weeks prior, talking about going. We hadn't been serious, of course; it was a long trip to either place and an expensive one, not to mention that the first celebration was bound to be packed. We could imagine lines of hundreds of people and prices high enough to make my wallet weep and Arihiko had exaggerated it even further to make me laugh. In the end, we let the subject die, promising to do something more locale at some point instead.

But that Western Holiday…it was supposed to happen tomorrow, right? I'd never celebrated it before, but the commercials had insured I knew the name.

"Halloween?" I asked, more myself then the woman behind me.

What could something like that have to do with anything? It was just a night when people went—what had they called it? Trick-or-treating? They went around and dressed up in costumes and got candy, I think. I felt pretty silly just for mentioning it.

But she surprised me again.

"So you are not completely ignorant, Murderer," She granted. "Yes; tomorrow night is All Hallows Eve and Samhain."

Her voice became both wistful and bitter, then.

"'Summer's End,'" She translated before I could ask what Samhain meant. "A fitting name, this year more than any."

"But…why does that matter?" I asked.

"It is a special day, mortal, even if you do not know it. It is the day when this world and the next are closest and we immortals…celebrate it alongside you." A hint of amusement slid into her voice. "Or I suppose it's more accurate to say you celebrate because we do. On that night, we will…you could not understand the truth of that night if you tried, so let us instead say that we go guising."

She paused, seeming to remember something.

"No, I suppose you would not understand that term," She mused. "Then we go…trick-or-treating. We run free that night and celebrate it, drawing power to ourselves."

"Where does that power come from?" I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"All manner of places. The world. Humans. But most of all, each other. Usually, we rob and swindle each other for bits of power. But that is not what will happen tomorrow."

I suddenly understood what she meant.

"They'll tear you apart and take everything, won't they?" I asked quietly. "Because you're too weak to defend yourself."

"Me," She said. "And you, as well. You are small, granted, but you will give them something nonetheless, and since you will be by my side when they come, you will die."

"I see." I said, wondering what it was going to be like. Would they literally eat us? I nearly trembled at the thought, but forced the feeling down. "And hiding isn't possible?"

"Not from those that will pursue us," She said. "Not with the current limits of my power."

"And you don't have any allies to help you?" I wondered, thinking she couldn't truly be alone. Immortality without anyone…who would want something like that? If I were immortal and there were others like myself, I'd want to at least try to get along with them—eternity alone sounded more like a level of hell then a blessing.

"I do," She said, and there was something in her tone that made me stop walking and look back. She looked…sad. "I have many, many allies, but…"

"But what?" I asked.

She said nothing. After a moment, she gestured for me to keep moving and we walked the rest of the way in silence.

I was surprised when I began to recognize the path we were taking, if only barely, and I began to realize precisely where we were heading. I started to make turns without bothering to wait for directions, guiding us back to the place that had occupied my thoughts a great deal lately, hesitating only when I stood at the doorway.

It was the same Apartment Complex as earlier; the place where I'd hacked her to pieces with my knife. I suppose it should have been obvious, thinking about it—I came here the first time following her, after all, and she led me here presumably because she owned an Apartment.

I felt her shift impatiently behind me and opened the door before she could say a word. Once more, the elevator doors opened as soon as the button was pushed and she slid in after me, keeping a careful eye on me the entire time; I imagine she didn't have any better memories of this place then I did, what with the brutal murder and all. Well, maybe it was _attempted_ murder given the results, but still.

Nonetheless, I remained calm and composed. It was surprisingly easy—ever since I'd been cornered and truly understood what was going on, I'd felt sort of numb. Not like I was in shock, but more like I understood that this was just the way things were going to be and no amount of fear, complaining, or denial was going to change that. I'd felt this way once before, on the…was it the third day after I woke up in a world covered in lines? At the time, it had seemed like I'd never forget any of it, but now it just seemed so long ago.

"Eighth, again?" I asked, waiting only a second for a possible denial before pushing the button. The first three floors we went up in an, at least to me, awkward silence, but then my thoughts began to wander. I think I was really just getting used to what was happening, because I'd already stopped being bothered by the weird aspects and simply started wondering about the stuff I didn't know the answers too.

"This Halloween thing…" I began, tilting my head to look at her. "Do you immortals usually celebrate it in Japan? It's a Western Holiday, right? I'd figure you'd celebrate it in England or America or something, rather than here."

She stared quietly at me for a moment, almost looking bored.

"The location doesn't matter. Even the Holiday is just a name that was given to mark the date of an annual event," She murmured. "It doesn't matter if the local culture knows the meaning of the occasion or not."

"Ah," I said, nodding. After a beat, I rephrased the question. "Then, out of everywhere you could celebrate it, why here in Japan? And why in this town rather than, say, Tokyo or Kyoto?"

"We celebrate in many places, not just one. If I celebrated here, nothing stops anyone else from doing so elsewhere, though I generally have a number of followers, no matter where I go." Her gaze momentarily sharped as she looked at me. "This time more than ever, I imagine."

I quietly scratched the side of my cheek, trying to express the shame I felt. I don't think it came across very well, because she just glared harder, like I was making fun of her. I'd never thought about it before, but perhaps I simply have an annoying face.

"As for the location…I am not certain," She admitted. "It…felt like the right place to spend the night. I follow my heart, I suppose, even to the very end."

I blinked, surprised.

"So, you mean…it was just a whim, then?"

The amount of anger that flashed through her eyes then would have made take a step back in any other situation. As it was, my back was literally to a wall, so I stood my ground. A moment before I thought she was going to do something, she took a deep breath and appeared to regain control of herself—probably by remembering that killing me now would just spare me a worse fate later, or something.

"Not a whim," She all but hissed as she exhaled. "I was looking for something very important and my heart told me to look here. I trust my heart, Murderer; if what I'm looking for is real, if it exists, then it will be in this country. And I will find it if I must to search every city on this island to do so."

"It must be really important to you if you'd go that far for it," I mused. "What are you looking for, then?"

She glared at me again, apparently annoyed by my continued questioning. But—

I got the feeling that even she wasn't sure what she was looking for. I was a little confused by that, to be honest; what could be so important that you'd look for it so frantically that you'd scour all of Japan for it on a hunch, even if you didn't have the slightest clue what you were actually trying to find? I got the feeling that she wouldn't tell me if I asked, though; she only seemed to tell me things that either didn't matter to her anymore or when she got really angry.

I pondered making her angry on purpose but…no. That seemed like a strategy that would likely end up shortening my already dwindling life span.

Still, it was sort of admirable, in a way, to be that devoted to a goal. Whatever she was looking for must have been really important to her and a part of me wondered which she was angrier at me for—cutting her to pieces or ending her search before she found it.

As we reach the eighth floor and step out of the elevator, I suddenly have a lot more questions. Like, why the hell would she rent the entire top floor? And, what was she thinking covering the entire floor with plants and vegetation of every kind, many of which probably weren't native to Japan—or, for all I know, Earth. On that note, if she really wanted to do such a thing, wouldn't it have made more sense to find a cheaper apartment complex rather than the most expensive one in town?

I turned to her as she stepped out after me, ready to voice those questions, before shutting my jaw after thinking better of it.

No…this woman is understandably mad at me and her patience with me is probably dwindling with every question I ask. If that's the case, it would be best not to waste time on pointless things like that and risk irritating her. I had a feeling that if I wanted to know anything, I needed to think things through slowly and carefully choose what to ask and when to ask it.

Nodding to myself, I followed her directions to one of the apartments, noting as I did so that it was the one furthest away from the room around which the plants were most common—her room, I assumed.

"Stay in here," She said, pushing me slightly to make me step inside. "I'll come and get you when it's time."

"Time?" I started to ask, but she'd already closed the door.

Time for what? Did she want me to stay inside this apartment until Halloween night?

Sighing quietly, I looked around at my temporary home. It was pretty nice, to be honest, and I supposed there were worse places to wait for one's death; it was a high-class three room apartment, with a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom on top of a living room area. Out of curiosity, I checked the refrigerator, which was empty, meaning the snack Kohaku made me was probably going to have to count as my last meal. I scratched my head ruefully at that; if I'd known things would have turned out like this, I would have asked for something special on principle, if nothing else.

Still, at least for now I wasn't hungry and when I checked the sink, clean water flowed. I'd be fine.

I was debating with myself whether to sleep away my remaining hours or waste them away with the television when I heard something.

Well…no. That wasn't correct, I realized, standing again. I wasn't hearing anything…was I? But after a minute, whatever it was happened again, sending a shiver up my spine, making me want to…I don't know what. It happened three more times, irregularly, before I moved closer to the door.

Whatever was happening was somewhere beyond the door. I reached out for the doorknob, before remembering the type of day I'd been having and thought better of it. I tried the peep hole instead, trying to see if anything was outside, but it was dark, as if the other side were being covered—or, I thought, as if something had grown over it. So, as the…something happened again, I pressed my ear against the door and tried to listen instead.

At first, there was nothing. But just as I was about to pull away and open the door, I heard something, a slight sound that seemed to come from a distance, coinciding with the feeling coming over me. I closed my eyes and focused on that sound, blotting out everything else until I could focus entirely on my sense of hearing, and the sound became louder and louder each time it repeated, until it was almost as if it were happening in the same room—and then I realized what it was.

Coughing, intermixed with not quite suppressed sounds of pain. The coughing sounded like it hurt—or like the person coughing was already in pain and this coughing fit was just making it worse. After several seconds, I heard stumbling, followed by a muffled impact, like they'd fallen onto something soft. The coughing and sounds of pain continued for a few more minutes before going silent.

I open my eyes and in a rush I come back to my senses.

What had just happened? I'd heard…but the only other person on this floor was…

That couldn't be. If she was in her room, than she was down the hall and behind several walls, at bare minimum. I must have been hearing things because hearing her from here would be impossible.

I stopped for a moment, considering that. After what had happened so far…maybe it would be a good idea to sit down and reconsider what I would—could—believe was possible. Certainly, at this point, believing in the existence of the supernatural seemed more like an acknowledgement of reality than anything else. If I could believe in immortals and Halloween being special and Sidhe—whatever those were—then what exactly should I consider 'impossible.' Would the existence of Gods be that surprising at this point? Or magical creatures like Kitsune and Oni? In comparison to a woman that could be chopped to pieces, lit on fire, and then put herself back together…those would still be pretty weird, but I wouldn't consider that _impossible_ any more.

And I wasn't entirely sure where I'd rate having ears like a bat, but it seemed like it would be somewhat strange if _that_ was where I drew the line. Now, someone like _me_ having that ability…but then, I wasn't a completely normal person either, was I? That desire to kill that I couldn't explain…the skill with which I tore her apart…the lines that only I could see…

Even just in comparison to those things, hearing someone down the hall wasn't _that_ weird. And if I admitted it was possible and that I might not just be hearing things, then…

That woman…

I reached for the doorknob, but the moment my fingers touched it, I felt something like a shock course up my arm and drew it back quickly.

Static?

I tried again, with the same result; a small jolt of electricity, just enough to hurt, dissuaded me from opening the door. By this point, I was suspicious, and when I got shocked the third time I was sure it wasn't normal. Something was punishing me for trying to leave.

Frowning, I braced myself and reached from the knob, grabbing hold of it with the intention of not drawing back at the sudden pain—and this time, got not a shock but what seemed like a steady stream of pain up the length of my arm.

Gasping and drawing away, my arm shook for a minute before steading. Obviously, that woman didn't want me going anywhere. I leaned against the wall, thinking.

I didn't really _have_ to do anything, did I? After all, she was the one who'd told me to stay here and obviously she wanted me too…but…

But if she was in pain right now, odds were that it was my fault.

I hesitated again, just for a moment, and took off my glasses.


	4. Killing Eyes and Faerie Hounds Part 3

**Killing Eyes and Faerie Hounds**

**Part Three**

In a moment, lines were draw across everything I could see, like an invisible brush had painted them there in a flash. Sloppy, seemingly random lines zigzagged across the surfaces of everything around me, scrawling weird patterns. The lines intersected in places, but if there was any pattern or reason for that, I'd never figured it out, even after years living with these eyes. But if there was one thing I knew for sure—

Yes, looking at those lines made me feel sick.

Even so, I don't hesitate to slide my eyes over the doorway and walls, following the paths of the lines. Morbidly, I can't help but imagine what would happen after each line was cut, the image of the wall falling to pieces in my mind, but in its own way, that's pretty helpful. With these eyes, it made no difference what substance the object was made of or how strong or hard they were, so all that mattered was where I decided to cut. I didn't really want to destroy the entire wall if I didn't have too, so…the easiest ways out would be through the door or slightly to the left of the corner. After a moment, of thought, I decided that the door would probably be easier to replace that the walls for the poor owners of this building. Sending up a silent apology, I took out my knife.

Honestly, I was pretty lucky to have it with me, today. I'd only brought with me this morning as evidence for the police, as I'd thought it had been the murder weapon. When I'd first grabbed it this morning, just holding it had disgusted me—or, rather, the strange comfort I felt whenever I held it in my hands disgusted me. Even now, as my fingers curled around its handle…its shape, weight, and texture seemed so right in my hands, and I couldn't ignore that feeling. I'd liked this knife the moment I'd first laid my hands on it.

It worried me a little, to be honest. I hadn't thought of it much at first but within hours of receiving it, I stalked and chopped up a woman with this knife. Maybe on some level, I'd wanted to use it ever since I got it?

But now was not the time to worry about such things. If that woman had collapsed, I definitely had to help her. Approaching the door, an almost natural motion causes the blade to extend and I pick my first line. Without exerting any strength at all, all ten centimeters of the blade slide into the line and I trace it easily, using the side of it like a straight edge. Up from the hinge to a corner, across the knob, down the side at an angle, through the other hinge—line by line, I take it apart, revealing…

A wall-like mass of unusual grey plants. They seemed nearly metallic, with luminous blooms which hummed lightly with a current, and I realized suddenly that this plant was the source of the shocks I'd received. One of the blooms had wrapped itself around the doorknob on the other side and still held what was left of it. I lifted a hand before dropping it, wary of being shocked. Instead, I leaned back and pressed one of my shoes against it, trying to push it out of my way, but it was like pushing on steel bars. After a moment, I gave up trying to move it with sheer strength.

What was this thing? A plant made out of metal that generated its own current? And it must have been at least somewhat flexible if it could grow and intertwine its limbs like that, but when I tried to push on it, I couldn't so much as make it budge. Such a thing…it couldn't possibly be natural. Some type of machine, then? Maybe in a science fiction book, but I doubted there was anything like this currently. This was almost like magic, but…

"_You're incredible, Sensei! You made all those horrible lines disappear just like that! It's like magic!"_

"_Well, of course! I am a wizard, after all!"_

…I suppose it wasn't so odd. I'd thought Sensei had been joking, since she'd been laughing as she'd said that and I'd never seen her do anything else magical, but…I couldn't dismiss anything anymore, could I?

Magic, then. Okay. That could…take some getting used to, but okay.

"Sorry," I apologized, lifting my knife again. "But I need to get through."

I took apart the steel-like plants in seconds and stepped through the doorway, moving quickly down the hall to that woman's room. The plants gathered around her apartment suddenly seemed more like a defensive wall then a strange scene, but I cut through both them and the actual wall without difficulty and entered the room.

—She was asleep. No, perhaps it would be more accurate to say she was unconscious, because she appeared to have collapsed rather than willingly slept. She seemed to have fallen off the bed and laid curl on her side, both her arms and her legs drawn over her stomach. Even though she wasn't awake, her face was drawn in a rictus of pain and whenever she breathed, it was shaky, as if the act pained her. Before my eyes, spots of slowly spreading red stained the fabric of her dress—she was bleeding and I could tell by the location of the injuries that it was from where I'd cut her. None of the places that would have been fatal were bleeding, but less important places seemed to be opening up again.

She must have been in a lot of pain when she'd confronted me earlier…

I exhaled slowly.

"I could run away right now," I said, more to myself then the unconscious woman. "It's not like I…want to die…"

Really, it was the opposite. Because I could see death so clearly—see how fragile the world and everyone in it truly was—I was probably more afraid of death then anyone. In the first few years after getting these eyes, I'd had a lot of nightmares—what if I just fell apart one day? Or what if I tore myself apart, on accident, brushing my hands over my lines without thinking about it while I was sleeping or in the shower or something? What if the house or the school or the city just suddenly fell to pieces around me?

I could say with complete honesty that I was scared of death. I was terrified of it and being able to see it so clearly didn't change that, nor did the knowledge that my health would probably ensure I didn't live a very long life regardless of what I did.

So, it wasn't as if I _wanted_ to die tomorrow night. So I could just run right now, if I really wanted too, and walk away. I hadn't told her my name or where I lived and she wasn't in any state to really hunt me down and she'd be dead in a little over twenty four hours anyway—if I left right here, right now, she probably wouldn't be able to track me down. Hell, if I really wanted too, I could even cut her to pieces again right now. I had the knife in my hand, my glasses were off, and she couldn't defend herself; by the time she put herself back together again, she'd have no chance of finding me in time. I could run and hide for a day or two, just to be sure, and then just go back to my normal life, pass of the missed days of school as a bout of Anemia, and just pretend none of this had ever happened.

Even if it had. Even if a woman was going to die because of what I'd done. Even if she was on the floor, bleeding from the wounds I'd inflicted.

I couldn't lie and say I didn't think about my options right then. I couldn't say I didn't contemplate doing something I knew was wrong to survive. If I left right now, no one would ever know about this but me. No one would ever know that I'd caused a woman's death.

Except me, of course. And that's the thing; I thought about my choices and what I could do and who I could become—and I could become someone like that. Just like, years ago, if I hadn't met anyone on that grassy field outside of town, I could have become a lot of things. I could have gone mad, I could have become a monster, I could have killed myself to escape, I could have done or become a thousand things if I hadn't met a red-haired woman on that field.

But I had. And she'd taught me a few things about life and power and choices and responsibility and making mistakes and apologizing—and because of her, I wasn't any of those things. I was just me.

And I couldn't do any of that.

I turned around and left the room, walking to the elevator. If I remembered correctly, there was a pharmacy about ten minutes from here.

**XxXXxX**

When I returned, she was awake and back on the bed. Spots of color had begun to return to her cheeks, but they mainly just added to the image that she was sickly. I stood by the opening I'd made in the wall for a moment, hesitating, and our eyes met.

The first emotion that registered in her eyes—which I was watching carefully, wanting some prior warning if she decided to give torturing me to not quite death a shot—was shock. She'd probably come to the same conclusions about the unlikelihood of tracking me down if I ran as I had and was surprised to see me again.

And then surprise gave way to anger and she immediately tried to rise from the bed, only for her features to tighten in pain. For a moment she seemed to try to fight through it and rise anyway, but then she sagged, breathing hard as she glared at me. But she didn't make a single pained noise—no, more like, she seemed unwilling to do such a thing in front of me.

Seeing patches of dark color spreading through her clothes, I quickly entered the roof, lifting the bag I held in my hands as both a shield and a peace offering. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment before turning towards me, careful and blank. I paused for a moment when those eyes landed on me, before slowly taking a step towards her and then another, careful not to make any sudden movements. She watched me silently as I made my way to the bed, like a predator about to strike, and it was somewhat amazing how nervous someone that couldn't even get off her bed could make me.

I set the bag on the bed and with deliberate slowness removed one item at a time, holding it up as if I didn't know what it was and turning it to let her see it completely. One by one, I laid all the first-aid supplies out in front of her, and she didn't try grabbing my neck again so she must not have disapproved.

"I don't know if they'd help an immortal, but…you were hurt, so I…" I tried to explain when she looked at me before trailing off again. After all, I'd been the one to cause her injuries; to also be the one to try and heal them must have looked odd. At the very least, confusion touched the corners of her eyes but after a moment she started breathing again and I realized I hadn't even noticed she'd been holding her breath. I really had no way of explaining why I'd done it—at least not without looking really strange—so I tried to change the subject. Sorting through the supplies, I lifted the disinfectant and the bandages first. "Do you need me to…?"

Her eyebrow twitched and she held out a hand and I placed the disinfectant in it gingerly, half expecting it to fall out of her hands. It didn't, but her hands shook so much that she had to grip it until her knuckles went white to keep it from doing so. As she moved to lift her shirt, I wondered for a moment if I should look away to give her privacy or force myself to look at what I'd done to her, she jerked it up before I could decide.

It was ugly, needless to say; I doubted there was anyone in the world good-looking enough to make 'numerous open wounds' look attractive. The wounds remained along the lines where I'd cut her, though nowhere near as deep. Before they'd been all the way through, leaving her in neatly cut pieces, but now they were shallow wounds. But there were a lot of them and even if they weren't deep it didn't matter, because they added up. I noticed that in certain places they were completely healed however, such as when they tapered off into fading scars near vital organs, just like I'd thought earlier. I think the healed areas had spread, too.

But it was disgusting to look at, even if it was much better than it had been before. And to have had to go through that…before, I thought it might not have been too painful, because I'd slit her throat first and then stabbed her in the head twice, so there shouldn't have been much time for her to feel pain. But for an immortal…

When her fingers finally failed her, I caught the bottle long before it hit the ground.

"Let me," I said.

She glared at me and at her hand, as if trying to decide which she was more disgusted with, but when I began to tend to the wounds I'd caused, she didn't stop me. I'd finished disinfecting the wounds and was in the process of bandaging them when she spoke.

"Why did you come back?" She said in a hoarse voice and I realized belatedly that if she couldn't even get off the bed she probably couldn't get herself any water, either. I made a mental note to get her something to drink after I was done, even as I thought about my answer.

"Because…since I was the one who did this to you, it's my responsibility. Since you told me to stay, I'll stay, because I'm the one who chopped you to pieces in the first place. And since I'm the one whose actions are going to be the end of you, it only makes sense if I die too, right?" I reason.

She looks at me for a moment, before looking up at the ceiling.

"I supposed I was aware from the beginning that you likely weren't very sane, as you cut a woman you didn't even know to pieces for no reason," She muses.

I finish with the bandages and stood to leave. I'd guess I'd watch TV until the end. Now that I think about it, since I was out, I could have gotten a real last meal, too…Oh, well.

"—Wait," She stopped me. "There's no point in locking you in that room if you're not going to leave—"

'Especially since you can obviously get out whenever you want,' went unsaid, but I wasn't dense enough to miss it.

"—And I have several questions I would like you to answer, Murderer," She finished, glancing at me sharply.

"My name's Shiki, by the way," I told her, belatedly. "I just realized you didn't even know the name of the person who gave you all this trouble."

"I'll remember to curse that name, when the time comes," She said, nodding in what seemed to be honest thanks. I sat back down beside her and waited for her to ask her questions.

"I am Titania," She said abruptly, and I blinked, turning towards her in surprise. I hadn't actually expected her to give her name back. "Lady of Light and Life. Monarch of the Seelie Fae, the Summer Court of the Sidhe. Remember it well, boy."

I nodded at her, still staring. Her features twisted in irritation.

"And even still you do not understand that of which I speak?"

I shook my head.

"Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_?" She tried. "Ovid's _Metamorphosis_? Spencer's _Faerie Queene_? Goethe's _Faust I_? Tennyson's _The Foresters_!?"

The last one was said with a bit of put-upon desperation, but I didn't recognize it anymore then I recognized any of the others.

"Sorry, no." I apologized, shaking my head. "But it's nice to know your name, Titania."

She was looking less and less tolerant of my existence by the minute…

I felt it would be beneficial to my continued survival if I changed the subject.

"You said you wanted to ask me something?"

The annoyance quickly faded from her eyes as she eyed me, before looking passed me to the demolished wall. One hand went to her stomach, where her bandages lay under her shirt.

"The edges are cleanly cut, as if with a single blow, as were my plants," She murmured. "And my wounds…"

She closed her eyes for a moment, before shifting slightly, trying to get more comfortable. When she opened her eyes again, she looked at him sharply.

"Show it to me," She ordered. "The knife you cut me apart with."

Wordlessly, I took it out of my pocket and with a motion produced the blade. Despite her attempts to hide it, I saw something almost like a flinch on her face when she saw it, and she looked at it like a child looked at a stove after first getting burnt. I carefully laid it on the bed and uncurled my fingers from it, trying to ignore how loath I felt to do so with the comforting blade.

She leaned towards it, though she looked like she wanted to scoot away, and several minutes passed as she silently observed it. Just as I was about to ask her about it, she spoke again.

"A fine blade. Steel, but signs that it was re-forged several times from lesser materials. It's several hundred years old at least and in that time…" She frowned. "This blade has killed many and it is of impeccable craftsmanship to be sure, but this blade cannot cut through walls like that, and even made of steel it would not be enough to do this to me. When first we met, I sensed this blade, and was sure it had no magic bound to its steel, and I have made sure I was not mistaken. The blood it has spilled has given it power, but a blade like this shouldn't be able to cause me such persistent wounds."

She lifted her eyes to mine again and narrowed them—in anger or consideration, I wasn't sure, but it pinned me in place and I didn't dare move.

"Then if not the blade, perhaps the wielder?" She wondered aloud, looking at me as she had the blade. "There is magic in all things, but in you it is buried deep and in no greater measure then any normal human. Perhaps if you practiced for a score of years, you could learn enough to be considered skilled, but you would never be considered for membership by the White Council—not in ten years and not in a hundred. Your body is flesh and blood and bone and it is your own. You are not a vessel for any being, nor even a suit of flesh crafted from corpses—and anything that could do this to me would all but fray Reality by lingering in this world. I am certain that you are, if not human, then at least native to this world and entirely solid and physical."

She seemed annoyed again, but I was as lost by her words as always.

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"It means that no matter how hard I look, I can see nothing in you that says you are anything but normal." She said. "And yet here I lay, bleeding. I should have healed easily, but I had to completely remake my conceptual structure just to put myself back together in time for Halloween—and even still, my wounds seem loathe to heal. Even with a knife of steel, injuring me so dearly should be impossible. Perhaps it could be done with a weapon such as the White God's Swords, but such things burn with their own power, and I would have felt it miles away. So the question is how could you match Excalibur with a simple knife?"

I looked at her, my eyes pausing over where I had cut her less than a day before, and one hand went to my glasses in a nervous gesture.

"Well, I still don't understand anything you're talking about, but…there is this one thing. How should I put this? I can see these lines…and if I trace them, I can cut things."

"What?" She asked, looking shocked. I wasn't particularly surprised. In the past, only Sensei had ever believed this story. But then she continued in a serious voice, reminding me that she wasn't normal either. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" I paused again, thinking of how to phrase the words. It wasn't something I'd ever really tried to explain to anyone and Sensei had just known. I usually did my best to pretend I couldn't see the lines at all. "I can see these lines on things—on living things, the ground, anything I can see—and if I cut along those lines with something sharp, the thing the line is on gets cut too…Does that mean anything to you? I mean, it's kind of cool that I can cut steel with just a knife, but it's not like I can cut things anywhere I want. I can only cut them along the lines, and when I cut you—well, you can already cut a girl's skin with a knife, right? I don't think it's that amazing, really…"

But she had stopped listening already and was gazing at me with wild, feline eyes. I felt like she was trying to burn a hole through me with her gaze and my voice trailed off.

"—I see," She said after a moment, closing her eyes and smiling grimly. "I suppose the world isn't fortunate enough for Balor's cursed eyes to stay lost in myth."

She opened her eyes and looked towards the window.

"But to think I would stumble across such an unlikely monster in this country…" She sighed that reminded him of when he'd been feeling put upon by his own misfortune.

"W-what?" I protest immediately. "I don't think someone who can come back from being chopped into pieces has any right to call me a monster!"

She looked back towards me with a raised eyebrow and there was something in the action that made it obvious she thought I was a complete idiot.

"A monster is a monster," She stated matter-of-factly. "In all the Courts of Faerie, there is no one with eyes that can see the death of things."

"'See the death of things?'"

Titania nodded, her gaze still harsh.

"Were you born with eyes like that, Balorian?"

"What? No; my eyes have been like this for a long time, but I wasn't born this way."

She frowned and tilted her head.

"Then you must have had at least one near-death experience at some point and then you started seeing them, correct?"

I nodded slowly. My memories of before the accident were sometimes blurry, but I definitely didn't remember seeing lines before I woke up in the hospital. I'd made that connection myself, but how did she…?

"Then it's as I suspected. You must have had the potential to see death before, but when you actually nearly died, you were able to understand it for the first time. After that, you were able to see its presence everywhere. It's said Balor of the Evil Eye could realize the death of anything he looked at, but your eyes are obviously no match for his. I supposed we have that to be thankful for at least. But with those eyes, I suppose everything you've done makes sense." Even as she spoke, she seemed lost in thought, as though she were considering something. "And with eyes like that…"

The look in her eyes had changed again, but I barely noticed because this was my chance, to finally find out more about my eyes.

"Titania, do you know something about my eyes?" I asked.

"Not as much as you, I would imagine, but in the centuries after Balor's death, there were rumors. Stories, I thought. I don't think anyone gave them more weight than that—the Fomorians attempting to build up a figurehead to rally their forces behind and attempt to regain what they had lost. Most of them most likely were, but if what you said is true…it had been before my time as Queen, but it would explain my mother's reaction. I'd thought she'd simply wanted to make an example and stop things before they could grow into a rebellion, but if the stories are true…" She still seemed to be mulling over things and I wondered how many thing she saw in a different light, knowing of my eyes. "What you see is the end of all things. To put it simply, you are seeing death itself. In a way, you could say it's similar to seeing to future, because what you see is the end that all things advance towards."

Those words. I'd heard something like that before.

"_Shiki, what you are seeing is something that should never be seen, by anyone, or anything. Everything in existence has points where they are most easily broken. We, who will break down one day, are imperfect for this reason. Your eyes have the ability to see the fate of all things…to put it another way, you can see the future."_

"…_See…the future?"_

"_That's right. You can see death. You don't need to know any more than that."_

She hadn't explained and at the time it had done nothing but confuse me, but Sensei had definitely said that. But—

"What do you mean?" I asked. "'Death itself?' All I see are the lines where things can be cut easily. What do lines have to do with death?"

She frowned, pondering that.

"Most likely, those lines are how your brain tries to represent what you see. But they are the death of an object. All things must end—this is a fact inherent in existing to begin with. There are differences in time, but from the beginning, anything that exists is moving towards its own ending. Death isn't something that simply arrives, but something that's an intrinsic part of anything that lives. And if that death is a part of something from the beginning, it shouldn't be impossible for someone to see it, if they could both truly comprehend what death was and possessed eyes and a brain appropriate for seeing such things. That is the true nature behind what you see. As to where those lines are placed, I could only theorize, because I can't see them myself, but…I would imagine that lines aren't all you can see, correct? From the claims the Fomorians made, there should be points as well."

She stared hard at me, as if waiting for me to prove the rumors true.

—Actually, now that I thought about it…when I first met Titania and followed her…when I couldn't control myself…I'd seen the usual lines, but also large black dots that they seemed to flow from. The next morning, I hadn't seen them, so I'd thought there'd just been something wrong with my eyes, but…

"Yeah. There were. It was only that one time, but there were several of them on your body. The lines seemed to flow between them and join them together."

"I see. 'The lines where things die easily' and 'death itself.' For you to be able to see them for years…I suppose it's not surprising that you're insane." She mused, shaking her head. There was something almost like pity in her eyes when she looked at me. "Let's say you cut someone's throat and they die. They died because you cut them—and if you hadn't been able to cut them, they wouldn't have died. But you…even if they were immune to being cut it wouldn't matter, because you reverse the order of things when you cut their lines. You are making something's die, and so it is cut."

I swallowed and the sight made her smile.

"Do you see now? What else can I call you except a monster? To you, they may just be lines, but those eyes were called Evil Eyes for a reason; you have eyes that can kill anything, Balorian."

"—Then…even an immortal like you…? If you have lines, then that must mean…"

"Everything will die eventually, Balorian," Titania said. "Even immortals won't last forever. Perhaps some will linger until the ends of time, but then that just means that will be their ending. One day, even this Universe will end. Such is the way of things."

Slowly, I lifted a hand to my glasses and slid them off my face. For a moment, I just look around me, at the fragile world I live in. At the wounded woman on the bed, with her dark, think lines. Even at myself. I'd wondered for so long what they were, why I could see them, and now I knew. What I saw was death and a world that was full of it.

I put them back on and they hide it from my sight. For a moment, I closed my eyes, simply breathing. It didn't change anything. The lines weren't any different now that I knew what they were. But in a way, I was glad. I wasn't tormented by something unknowable and inexplicable anymore, merely something strange and frightening. I liked that better.

When I open my eyes, Titania is staring at me intently.

"What?" I ask. "Is there something else?"

"Just now and that time you cut me to pieces…both times, you took your glasses off. Could it be that you can't see the lines with your glasses on?" She asked.

"Yeah; I got them from my Sensei a long time ago, when my eyes first became like this. I'm only using the lenses now, but thanks to them I can live a normal life."

"I see. Yes, I'd wonder how you'd managed to stay even as sane as you are when faced with death all the time. But I'm surprised you have something like that—Balor kept a seal over his eye that required four of his most powerful attendants to remove."

She held out a hand, silently asking to see them but I hesitated. I didn't let usually people touch them, because they were so important to me.

"I'm not going to break them," She said scornfully. "I simply wish to see them."

"…Fine."

Reluctantly, I put them in her shaking hand.

She almost dropped them the moment they touched her skin, actually hissing at the contact. She looked at them with frighteningly intent eyes before looking at me.

"You said your sensei was the one who gave you these glasses?" She said, voice quiet but possessing a note of alarm she couldn't hide. "Is she in this city currently?"

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden question, but after a moment, I shook my head.

"No. At least, I don't think so. It's been eight years since I last saw her—I think she was only here for about a week."

Titania pondered the glasses in her hand for a few more seconds before nodding her head.

"—I see. That's good. I would not want to deal with that woman if I could avoid it." She mused.

"Titania, do you know my sensei?"

"…I know _of_ her," She admitted. "Among the wizards the White Council calls 'warlocks,' she is among the strongest. As Heinrich was to those who broke their Fifth Law, she is to those who have broken the Sixth. These glasses are unmistakably her work—their progression through time has simultaneously been halted and allowed to move freely. Something that attempted to destroy these glasses would most likely have no effect whatsoever, simply because even if it could destroy them in a moment, that moment would never come to pass, for these glasses have been halted as they are. And yet you can affect them without problem otherwise."

She gestured with them as if to prove it.

"But then, I suppose that is to be expected of the greatest of the Chronomancers." She mused. "Even I do not have enough skill with time to have done something like this so casually. It's not affected by the sunrise or sunset, and I would imagine water and fire would have little more effect on them. There are very few beings that would be capable of destroying these glasses as they are now and I am not amongst them. Amazing."

But despite her words, she pinned me with her glare again, glowering at me as if I'd done something wrong.

"But I am surprised," She said. "I would have thought I'd have heard if Blue took a Disciple. If nothing else, I'd have thought the White Council would have been suitably horrified. And yet…even still, I cannot sense a practitioner's aura around you."

I tilted my head and looked at her silently for a minute before speaking.

"I seriously have no idea what you're talking about." I stated frankly.

Titania's entire body shuddered, as if it literally hurt not to throw something at me, and I prepared myself to duck if it became necessary—but after a moment she took a calming breath and apparently decided it wasn't worth the effort.

"What exactly did your Sensei teach you?" She asked instead, voice full of forced patience.

"Ah…stuff like how to be responsible and apologize when you're wrong," I began, thinking. "And about things I shouldn't do and that I was given my power for a reason…and to be honest and kind…to be true to yourself and accept your mistakes…that sort of thing, I guess?"

Titania's eyes had started to glaze a few seconds after I'd begun but she spoke the instant I'd stopped talking.

"Wonderful lessons, to be sure," Titania stated, tone emotionless. "Did she teach you any _magic_, though?"

"Ah, no. There were a few things she said that I didn't understand at all, though. Maybe some of that was about magic. But she was only here for about a week, like I said. She told me a few things about my eyes after I tried to show off in front of her and cut the lines on a tree irresponsibly, but only a little. But pretty much everything I know about them, I found out from you."

"Did she give you anything? Any messages or books?" Titania continued, looking serious. "Maybe something about your eyes?"

"Just my glasses. She said I didn't need to know anything more than that because 'If someday, you happen to go down that path, the principles will become clear to you as something that is needed.' Not sure what she meant by that, though."

"'If someday, you happen to go down that path, the principles will become clear to you as something that is needed.'" Titania repeated, eyes falling back to the glasses. Looking at them for a moment, she nodded to herself after a moment and slid the glasses on. I was about to ask what she was doing, but she closed her eyes for a moment and looked like she was concentrating. Then, she opened them—

And gave a sudden scream of pain, ripping the glasses off of her face and hurling them away. I dove off the bed and grabbed them out of midair, surprising myself with my own speed, and hit the ground hard enough to knock my breath out. Picking myself up off of the ground, I was about to ask what the hell she was doing, but as I rose high enough to see Titania, the words caught in my throat.

She had covered her eyes with her hands, but that didn't stop the blood from seeping out through her fingers. Nor did it make it any less obvious what had somehow happened. Titania growled in both pain and annoyance, before her hands began to glow with a soft, greenish light. I rushed to her side, not sure what to do, but after a few seconds she lowered her hands, revealing…

Her completely normal eyes.

"An interest trick," She mused, but there was a harsh edge of anger to her voice. "A trap that doesn't exist until the exact moment in time someone _would_ have walked into it, if it had been there. It had been completely clean to my senses, until I opened my Third Eye and suddenly it was there to burn out my eyes. It's the kind of trap that would normally be easy to sense, but it simply hadn't been there until after I tried. I'd be interested to know how she managed such a thing. And also in gouging out her eyes in return."

"What happened?" I asked, worried. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay." She nearly snarled. "Repairing my eyes was a pointless waste of my magic and I don't precisely have a great deal of it at the moment. If I'd been able to…it does not matter. That is enough about your eyes and you're past. This changes things, Balorian. I won't be dying tomorrow and you're going to help me make sure of it."

**XxXXxX**


End file.
